


Improper Restroom Etiquette

by TA_Blackstone



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Watersports, cum facial, excessive cum, excessive piss, golden showers, handjobs, pissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TA_Blackstone/pseuds/TA_Blackstone
Summary: During a victory party, Rocket Raccoon and Beta Ray Bill have both have had just a bit too much drink. So when Bill stumbles into the restroom while Rocket is trying to relieve himself, things naturally get a little awkward.Commission for DraekoSilver on FA.
Relationships: Rocket Raccoon/Beta Ray Bill
Kudos: 9





	Improper Restroom Etiquette

Rocket stumbled into the space station's restroom, the raucous music and drunken chatter suddenly muted as the door hissed closed behind him. Victory parties always devolved quickly, particularly the ones thrown by Stark – the mad genius spared no expense when it came to a celebration. The booze flowed freely and Rocket was not one to turn down a drink. He partook generously despite his small stature and his bladder felt fit to burst. He made his way over to the urinal, one of those stainless steel troughs that took up an entire wall, and started fumbling at the clasps on his jumpsuit, shrugging it open enough to free his dick. 

He heard the door hiss open and slide shut again, but paid it no mind. Someone else probably had too much to drink or needed to barf in one of the toilets. It wouldn't be a proper party without some poor bastard running headlong past their limit. 

At least, Rocket would have been more understanding until he heard a zipper being undone somewhere directly behind him. 

“What the--?”

Bafflement turned to shock and outrage as a sudden stream of hot liquid spattered down on top of Rocket's head. It matted down his fur, trickling down over his muzzle and around his neck, down into the front of his open jumpsuit. It was like stepping right into a shower, but Rocket knew full well that this was not water suddenly soaking him. He whirled around in a fury, raising his fists to pummel whichever one of these drunken idiots had mistaken him for the urinal. 

“What's the big fuckin' idea, you giant buffoon?!” he shouted, his small fists pounding uselessly against the muscled thighs of the man standing behind him. The figure in question was a very drunk Beta Ray Bill, his helmet askew and his cape missing; the big, horse-faced alien probably lost it in his current addled state. Rocket had to look up, but was very nearly eye-level to Bill's large, floppy cock as golden piss streamed persistently from the tip. 

“Wha...?” the drunken Korbinite mumbled. He looked down and saw the soaked, irate raccoon. “Ohhh, shit, sorry Rocket, didn't see ya there...”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?!” Rocket demanded. “I'm standin' right here, ya big idiot!”

“Sorry, man, just lemme move outta your-woah!”

Bill made a valiant effort to sidestep to the right, one hand clutching his endlessly-spraying member. The fat, flaccid organ flopped about in his loose grip, sending another torrent of golden liquid right over Rocket, splashing up over the side of his jumpsuit and across his cheek and neck. Rocket slapped a hand to his face and dragged it down over his muzzle in exasperation. 

“Hold still, dumbass,” Rocket growled. He'd had quite enough of this. He had no idea what Bill had to drink tonight, but the big man's bladder was damn near bottomless right now. Seriously, where was he keeping all that?

Beta Ray Bill did his level best to remain steady while Rocket stood between his legs. The ill-tempered raccoon reached up, his small hands hefting Bill's meaty dick up and away from himself and toward the urinal. Bill offered a drunken word of thanks and tilted his head back, heaving a contented sigh as he kept on going. 

And going. 

And _going_. 

“How much did you have to drink, dude?” Rocket muttered, in a bit of a haze himself. He was drunk, but not nearly as bad as Bill. At least he didn't think so. 

He looked up, seeing that stream of yellow fluid splashing against the urinal behind him. Now that he had a second to stop and think, it actually felt...kinda nice? And it wasn't like he couldn't get any more soaked than he already was, the way Bill opened up on him when he walked in. 

Hey, a few more seconds in the shower couldn't hurt anything, right?

Rocket stepped back, wobbling a bit as his boots settled into the urinal, Bill's hot stream splashing down over his face and chest, soaking his jumpsuit all the way down. Rocket glanced downward at Bill's golden boots. With an inebriated chuckle, Rocket finally relieved himself, aiming straight for those shiny boots. Bill would be too drunk to notice and Rocket earned a little payback. 

“Heh, take that, Bill,” he slurred. 

“Yeah, cool,” Bill mumbled in response. 

After what felt like an age and a half, Bill finally tapered off, his stream running dry. Rocket sighed, feeling a few final drops spatter against the top of his head. He shook his arms, jiggling Beta Ray Bill's hefty cock, flopping it about to shake out the last few drops. Bill groaned a bit and Rocket felt the warm flesh being to thicken. He blinked and looked up, shaking that floppy cock some more, only to find it was flopping about less and less.

Bill groaned again, his cock hardening up in Rocket's grip. The fat knob was pointing upward now, swelling up as the Korbinite's impressive organ stiffened. Rocket's small, slender fingers gently dug into the hot flesh of that fat shaft, insistently pumping up and down. Bill groaned, swaying in place while slick precum dribbled from the tip of his engorged cockhead. 

“Uhhh...” Bill groaned. 

Rocket felt that hefty cock tensing up in his grip; he was damn near ready to blow. For a split second, it contracted, and that was all the warning Rocket got that the drunken alien had hit critical mass. Thick ropes of pearly seed gushed from the tip of Beta Ray Bill's huge cock, arcing out and splatting against the metal wall of the urinal – and the top of Rocket's head, leaving an obscene white stripe between his ears. Bill's cock kicked and pulsed, spattering Rocket with another heavy gob of cum. 

Then another. And another. The raccoon was being liberally painted, the Korbinite's thick, sticky seed plastering down his fur. 

_Okay, I need to know where he keeps it all,_ Rocket thought. 

Rocket squeezed that spewing cock, closing one eye as his face was soaked. More of Bill's cum splattered down around his neck, dripping down his chest and into his open jumpsuit. More thick gobs of seed clung to the fabric, dripping into the piss-filled trough currently soaking the raccoon's boots. Though the orgasm didn't last nearly as long as the act of emptying his bladder, Bill still dumped a considerable amount of spunk onto the drunken raccoon, wobbling on his feet in a haze of alcohol and blind pleasure. 

Beta Ray Bill stumbled back, his spent dick falling from Rocket's hands and flopping around, dripping messily onto the bathroom floor. He glanced down at Rocket, soaking in piss and cum in the urinal trough. He blinked blearily and gave Rocket a shaky thumbs-up.

“Thanks, Rocket, that was the best piss ever,” Bill slurred; he didn't even seem fully aware of what happened. All he knew was that he was feeling relieved and ready to pound back a few more drinks. “I owe you one, buddy.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Rocket mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. He watched Bill stumble back out of the bathroom, leaving wet footprints on the shiny floor, the front of his suit still undone. The door opened, briefly letting in the sounds of the party outside, before shutting again behind Bill. 

Rocket settled back against the wall with a groan, suddenly feeling tired. He remained there until his head began to clear, and the half-dressed raccoon looked down at himself in surprise. His jumpsuit was open, and he was standing ankle-deep in piss, his fur soaked with the stuff and sticky with Bill's cum. Worse still, he realized he was painfully erect, his cock standing straight up and out of his open jumpsuit. 

“Goddammit,” he muttered, lifting his tail to wring it out like a dishrag, more piss sloshing into the overfull trough. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”


End file.
